


(don't) let him go

by nefertiti



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 09:09:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1643213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nefertiti/pseuds/nefertiti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s not sure exactly how long he silently watches Grantaire sleep in his arms but one thing he does know is that he is really and truly fucked.</p>
<p>(Or the one where Enjolras is thirty-two and dating a seventeen year old and sometimes he angsts about it to the amusement of absolutely no one.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	(don't) let him go

**Author's Note:**

> grantaire is of age in france but if age differences freak you out, then this isn't the fic for you

“Age is just a number Enjolras.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s what’s written on the paedophile coat of arms.”

Grantaire turns to his side, throws the covers off himself and looks at Enjolras with that slow smirk that makes Enjolras want to ravage him until he can’t use that clever tongue of his to do anything else but pant Enjolras’ name and Enjolras really isn’t sure Grantaire’s grasping the extent of flack that Enjolras will get if anyone finds out about this. And it’s not that Enjolras can’t deal with flack but when he actually agrees with his dissenters, that’s a completely different story.

“You’re not a paedophile you fucking idiot.” Grantaire rolls his eyes. “I’m seventeen. It’s more than legal.”

He’s thirty-two and he’s dating a seventeen year old. As if he needs the reminder. He turns away from Grantaire because that’s the only thing that will make him able to think properly and he hears Grantaire groan behind him. He feels more than sees Grantaire crawl over to the edge of the bed and drape himself over Enjolras back, plastering himself to Enjolras, chest to back.

“That’s not the point.” Enjolras says, because he wants to stand his ground with Grantaire for once.

“Whatever the point is,” Grantaire whispers into his ears. “It’s Monday night, I’m all fucked out and I want to sleep. Preferably in your arms. So can you shut up about it?”

Enjolras has never really been able to stand his ground when it comes to Grantaire. He’s been fucked since that moment Grantaire smiled at him from across the room at a seminar he and a few of his colleagues were giving at Grantaire’s college and Grantaire skilfully combated his every point with an insolent smirk. To when Grantaire hauled him into a bathroom stall where he was waiting after he got kicked out of the hall and proved the many other ways in which his tongue was talented. To when he let Enjolras take him back to his loft after school and return the favour. To when that kept happening, over and over again.

Enjolras swings his feet onto the bed and lets Grantaire nestle himself in his arms.

Grantaire sleeps over by him more often than not. He hasn’t explicitly said it but he’s implicated that his parents don’t care one way or another if he comes home at night and Enjolras is always happy to have him over. He would spend every night with him if he could.

“You know,” Grantaire sighs and rubs the arm Enjolras has around his waist. “When you’re not angsting and worrying about this like a complete wanker, it’s nice.”

Enjolras doesn’t respond. He just looks at the blissed out smile on Grantaire’s face as his movements slow and his breathing evens out. He’s not sure exactly how long he silently watches Grantaire sleep in his arms but one thing he does know is that he is really and truly fucked.

-

Enjolras avoids Grantaire for the next few days.

He always does this when the guilt of letting Grantaire waste his youth when he has his entire life ahead of him outweighs the pure, unadulterated pleasure of just being around him.

Grantaire is usually the one who knocks sense back into Enjolras’ head during these periods and the fact that a seventeen year old kid- no not kid, guy, that’s better- a seventeen year old guy has more courage than him should be enough to make him want to curl into a ball like a foetus, give up his shares in his practice and die but he’s not nearly dramatic enough to actually consider doing that. So he goes to work.

He goes to work and ignores the way Bahorel, Courfeyrac and Bossuet tut at the bags under his eyes. He ignores the hole in his chest that Grantaire is supposed to fill that leaves him feeling ridiculously empty. He ignores the missed calls and unanswered texts on his phone and he works. He’s good at working. He’s great at working. He made partner at his law firm in seven years because he’s excellent at his job and he isn’t ashamed to admit it. He’s always busy with work.

Well technically the case he’s been working on got dismissed due to circumstantial evidence on the defence’s part but there _are_ still other things to be done. There’s always something to be done.

“No there fucking isn’t.” Courfeyrac groans when Enjolras mentions that on his sixth stop to his office for the day. “It’s late. Just go home to your sugar baby.”

“Courfeyrac.” Enjolras warns.

“Fine, to your respectable boyfriend.” Courfeyrac’s face is glued to his papers. He’s always been exuberant to the point of childishness but when it comes to his job, he’s as dedicated as they come. “ _Some_ of us are working.”

And Courfeyrac has a point. If this were him and someone was interrupting him while he was working. He has been known to _accidentally_ stick his leg out and trip people on occasion.

“Okay. I’ll just-”

Courfeyrac glances up at him and his shoulders slump. “Wait! You look like a kicked puppy. Tell Uncle Courf all your woes.”

“You know what,” Enjolras says slowly because really, _Uncle Courf_. “I think I _will_ go home.”

“No I was in a groove and you interrupted said groove.” Courfeyrac says with a grin. “Sit. Talk. I _do_ know a thing or two about dating younger men.”

“Combeferre’s three years older than you.” Enjolras reminds him even as he sits opposite him in the chair reserved for clients.

“I _did_ date before I got married you know.” Courfeyrac rolls his eyes in that fond way that he does whenever anyone mentions Combeferre. “Extensively if you remember correctly.”

“I remember,” Enjolras wrinkles his nose. They were dorm mates for one year at the university that Enjolras desperately wants to erase from memory. “Let’s not rehash.”

“Well, tell me what’s going on with you and R now because I know you’re never this bloody moody unless you two are on the outs.” Courfeyrac’s gaze is curious and if anything it makes Enjolras shrink in the chair. “You two were all loved up last I checked.”

“We were but I’m avoiding him now it’s-” Enjolras sighs. “I just keep- he deserves more. I’m not being self deprecating or anything. I’m being logical. He’s young. Even if it _is_ legal. The law’s not the issue here. He still has so much he can do. So many things that I’ll just hold him back from. His uni years are coming up. He should be preparing for that. Thinking about joining clubs. Meeting new friends. Having new experien-”

“Dating, drinking, clubbing, partying, fucking around.” Courfeyrac interrupts. “You don’t remember our university days that well do you?”

“ _Your_ university days maybe.” Enjolras huffs. He may have dated a little and slept around quite more than a bit when he was at university, but he rarely ever _partied_. And the thought of Grantaire being with anyone else makes bile settle in his throat, ready to come up at the mere imagery.

“Don’t focus on semantics.” Courfeyrac says jovially. “That’s what _normal_ people do when they’re at university.”

“What are you getting at?”

“I haven’t reached my point yet. Patience young grasshopper,” says Courfeyrac. “My point _is_ that you’re being an ass.”

Enjolras bristles at that but Courfeyrac is better at these things than he is so he just nods as if to say _‘go on’_.

“Of course Grantaire may want those things eventually. But you’re just living in the world of possibilities right now. Just because something can possibly happen doesn’t mean that it will. It’s _possible_ that Grantaire may want to live in a chateau on the moon and marry a half peacock, half horse Martian and work as a moon farmer planting little seeds in the craters and spend all of his leisure time playing cards with an elephant from Venus that speaks Russian but he hasn’t made any indication that he plans on doing that has he? He likes you and you like him and there isn’t any reason that he can’t do everything, sans the dating and fucking around, with you by his side. And if you’re unsure about it, there is always the bizarre concept of talking to him about it. You know. That nasty communication thing you try to avoid by all means necessary.”

Enjolras nods jerkily and Courfeyrac smiles warmly at him.

“Call him tonight or tomorrow.” Courfeyrac says, gently. “Now get out of my office and let me work.”

-

He doesn’t call him that night. Or the next day. Or the day after. He waits until Friday before calling him over and he tries not to feel guilty at Grantaire’s subdued tone.

He doesn’t really bother with sprucing up his loft much when Grantaire comes over. He feels completely comfortable with Grantaire’s in his space and it’s something that he doesn’t really try to think about too much.

There’s a quick rapping on his door which could only be Grantaire. Enjolras doesn’t hurry to the door but he isn’t exactly taking his time. When he opens the door Grantaire is standing there, looking at him with his stupid, lovely doe eyes that makes Enjolras want to pull him in and kiss him until those eyes stop looking so sad.

Grantaire beats him to the punch. He doesn’t even bother talking or yelling at Enjolras like he should. He just falls into his arms and Enjolras hands instinctively wrap around his waist. Grantaire stands on his tip toes and kisses him first and Enjolras practically melts into it.

“I missed you.” Grantaire mumbles against his lips as they walk inside, Grantaire absently sliding the door close behind him.

Enjolras groans and recaptures Grantaire’s lips, trying say exactly how sorry he is with his mouth. Grantaire pushes back against him, all fury and fire and sometimes he forgets, with Grantaire’s short frame, that he’s actually pretty strong. Enjolras grunts before he stumbles back, putting some distance between them.

“We should talk.”

“No we fucking shouldn’t.” Grantaire says, crossly. He pushes himself against Enjolras until they’re backed against the wall.

When it comes to Grantaire Enjolras has never had any form of impulse control. He just groans and kisses him. His hands curve around Grantaire’s neck, pulling him closer, until Enjolras is pressed against the wall and Grantaire is trailing kisses up his neck.

“You still want me right?” Grantaire mumbles and Enjolras almost doesn’t hear him but when he does he’s quick with his reassurances.

“Fuck. Yes. I always want you.” Enjolras moans slightly, tilting his head back to give Grantaire better access. “That’s the problem.”

Grantaire takes hit shirt off and Enjolras gets the hint quickly and starts unbuttoning his shirt as well.

“I don’t really see how that’s a problem.” Grantaire says, his eyes fixated on Enjolras’ chest. Grantaire memorises the shape of Enjolras’ naked chest with his hands and Enjolras smiles.

“You’re so fucking great,” he says without thinking.

Grantaire whimpers and he drops to his knee, pressing his head against Enjolras’ cloth clad thigh. “I want to suck you off.”

“Fuck, yes.” Enjolras groans.

And that’s all it takes for Grantaire to work his trousers open. He mouths at Enjolras’ cock eagerly through his underwear and Grantaire’s desperation is palpable, or maybe that’s just his own but he doesn’t have time to figure it out because his black, cotton briefs are being tugged down swiftly and his cock hits the open air and Grantaire doesn’t even give him the chance to get used to it.

He swallows him down without any preamble until Enjolras’ cock is hitting the back of his throat and he’s choking on it. Enjolras’ head hits the back of the wall. The pain of it grounds him slightly, just enough for him not to thrust into Grantaire’s mouth wildly like he wants when Grantaire starts humming around him. Instead he lets himself get acclimatised to the wet heat as much as he can. He grabs the back of Grantaire’s head and breathes harshly as Grantaire licks and sucks like this is what he was born to do. It’s messy and there’s very little finesse and it’s the hottest thing ever. Grantaire grips his hips tightly and Enjolras knows that he’s going to bruise but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is Grantaire’s mouth determinedly trying to drive him mad.

“Fuck, you’re so _good_.” Enjolras lets out a debauched moan on the last word.

Grantaire’s cheeks are hollowed and he sucks Enjolras’ cock sloppily before pulling away with a resounding pop. Grantaire only gives Enjolras a moment of reprieve, just enough time for him to catch his breath before he takes him in his mouth again. He sucks on the tip of Enjolras’ cock lightly and if the teasing is what Enjolras has to deal with as punishment for his avoiding Grantaire for two weeks, he’ll gladly take it. He drags his tongue up Enjolras’ cock with a broad stripe before focusing on the head again. His tongue teases the slit carefully and Enjolras lets out a strangled moan as some precome spills on Grantaire’s tongue.

He tugs on Grantaire’s hair harshly, pulling him away before he came in his mouth except-

“Can I come in your mouth? I want to come in your mouth.” Enjolras says, no he begs and Grantaire is looking up at him with his big, brown eyes and Enjolras wants nothing more than to come all over his face but he’ll save that for another time because he really, really wants Grantaire to swallow him down.

Grantaire doesn’t bother nodding or saying yes, he just engulfs Enjolras in the wet, warm heat of his mouth again. Except this time he doesn’t bother with any showboating. He just keeps his mouth loose and open Enjolras’ mouth parts for a moment before he starts making shallow thrusts into Grantaire’s mouth.

Whatever control he thought he could keep goes the minute he sees Grantaire take his cock out and start bringing himself off with rough strokes. Grantaire’s making contented little noises and Enjolras feels like he’s about to lose it. His hands find the back of Grantaire’s head again and he holds it in place as his thrusts pick up pace as he fucks into that wet heat. And he’s fucking Grantaire’s mouth and Grantaire is just taking it, even better he’s getting off on it and that’s more than enough to make Enjolras completely lose it.

He comes, spilling himself in Grantaire’s mouth and some sticky, white come dribbles down Grantaire’s mouth but he swallows him down the best that he could before pulling away and grinning up at him. The last spurt of come hits Grantaire on his chin and Enjolras almost apologises but Grantaire just wipes it off with his finger and cleans his finger off with his tongue.

Enjolras feels boneless as he slides to the ground and he kisses Grantaire soundly. He can taste himself on Grantaire and if he didn’t just have the most fantastic orgasm that would be enough to make him want to go again. He covers Grantaire’s hand with his and Grantaire fucks into their fist. It doesn’t take long for him to com, spilling over into their joined hands.

They sit on the floor together, panting harshly against each other’s mouths until Enjolras talks,

“I don’t want you to leave me.” And that isn’t what he wanted to say but he’s all fucked out and that works just as well as anything.

Grantaire snorts as he wipes their hands with his discarded shirt, “If anyone in danger of being ended with, I reckon it’s me.”

“I’d never-” Grantaire raises his brow and Enjolras sighs. “I think you deserve more than me Grantaire, no let me finish, I think you deserve more than me but if anyone’s going to come to the decision to end this, it’s not going to be me.”

He strokes Grantaire’s arm softly. “I’m not as strong as you all think I am.”

“Then I guess we’re never going to break up.” Grantaire says, seriously. “Because I’d never split up you.”

“Then I guess we’re stuck with each other forever then?” Enjolras says and a feeling of happiness blooms inside his chest when Grantaire’s head drops against his collarbone.

“Oh what a fate.”

Enjolras chuckles as he untangles himself from Grantaire. He stands up and holds his hand out to pull Grantaire up too. Grantaire leans against his shoulder and he’s probably just as tired as Enjolras is so he leads them to his room.

They lie next to each other and Grantaire sighs as he curls into Enjolras and Enjolras wraps his arm around him.

“I missed sleeping with you.” Grantaire huffs a soft laugh as Enjolras holds him tighter. “Do you promise you’ll stop being a twat about everything? I don’t want to have to miss sleeping with you.”

“I promise I’ll try.” Enjolras says, with a drowsy smile.

And he means it. Sleeping, with Grantaire in his arms, makes him feel whole in a way that he’s been missing for weeks and he isn’t particularly eager to let go of that feeling.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a [tumblr](http://ladytaire.tumblr.com/)


End file.
